Relight Vol 1 : S' Life Note
by Shadows of Liberty
Summary: My name is Shadow. Such an usual sentence that was forbidden for me to say for a long time. Why ? I'm a "Wammy's Child". I've been at the genesis of a world you may not imagine. A world where everyone was only a lie doomed to search for the truth hidden behind the letter L. Let's drown yourself in the memory of a little shadow who knows every secret, every truth of this world.
1. Page 1 : Prelude

Author's Note : It's been a while since I published something here...

I began to write this story a long time ago in french, but for a reason I don't explain, I have more facilities to think in english...So I decided to rewrite it in english !

Yes, because in fact, I'm just a french girl who loves speaking and writing in english, so, readers, try not to be too strict with me, but don't hesitate to make me notice my mistakes, I really want to improve my skills !

Well, Happy reading !

 **Disclaimer : _Death Note_ belongs to Takeshi Obata and to Tsugumi Ohba. _Death Note : L.A B.B Murder cases_ belongs to Nishio Ishin.**

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PRELUDE

My name is Shadow.  
This sentence is so simple and usual, but it always has been forbidden for me to say it. Why ? I'm a Wammy's Child. You, who read this journal, maybe you don't have any idea of what I'm talking about. No matter, I'm here to explain.

Do you know what the letter L symbolises ? What this little letter hides ? One of the biggest genius who's ever been on Earth.

Maybe you heard about the Kira's case. And maybe that's why you are reading this. Or maybe not. Maybe you're totally stanger to the world I belong to. Or maybe you too you come from Wammy' House. I don't really care. Just, carry on reading these few pages.  
I'm here to give some answers. To enlight some unseen parts of the story, no, of the World behind the letter L. I flew upon this world, silently, like the shadow I am. This Diary is my testimony. The vision of a little soul who grew up in this madness, who saw everything. Yes, because I was there, too.

But I wasn't alone. My story doesn't begin with L, or with Kira. The begining takes place a long time before. Some years which totally made the difference. Because just some years can change people entirely.  
Okay, I think I should just end this prelude and begin to tell my story.


	2. Page 2 : Once upon a December

ONCE UPON A DECEMBER

Once upon a time, in a cold night of December, a little girl was standing alone in her room, looking at snow falling down on the other side of her window. The pane was cold.  
This little girl who was staring at the frail white falling petals wasn't alive. Or rather, wasn't longer alive.  
"How could this be?", you may ask. "Can someone live without a heart ?", I would answer.  
Her life was taken away almost two years ago, when her parents died, when they took _him_ apart _._ Her brother. Her half. Her heart. Her twin. You may think that's an exaggeration. It's not.

After the tragedy that hit her family, the two siblings didn't really knew what to think, or what to do. Even they were young, they had a perfect awareness of the existence of the death. They always knew that everyone dies, one day or another. They both _saw_ the death everyday. It was like a ubiquitous and disturbing presence. However, they dealt with it.  
But this knowledge didn't prepare them to what had happened. Indeed, know that people die doesn't prepare to _see_ _people die_. Even less when it comes to our parents. This little girl wasn't prepared to see her dad lying on the floor, crowned with blood.  
She was just coming back from school, like everyday. Except that for once, she was alone; for once, she came home alone, she didn't wait of the end of her brother's drawing class, as she usually did.  
After that, she didn't really understand what happened. There were policemen everywhere, a lot of noise...She wasn't able to think clearly anymore. Why did that happen? Why all of these people weren't able to explain her? Oh, of course, they "tried" to explain. But they surely thought that she was too young and too stupid, maybe, to understand that her father died. She knew that, and she knew it wasn't an accident.  
After have seen that everything was alright with her, the paramedics entrust her to the policemen and they took her to the police station. Her brother wasn't there, as she expected to. She was wondering where he could be. She waited some hours, without anyone came to her. Then, two people came ; the same man who brought her here and a social worker. She didn't like the way this man talked to her. Like she was stupid. She was a child, she wasn't retarded. He told her that they called her mother after the discovery of the corpse. She took the first train from London but it derailed. And she wasn't one of the survivors.  
That's it. How her life exploded. That should have been a normal day. She would have woken up by _his_ side, prepare herself and go to school. As always, she would have been sitting in the back of the classroom, looking at _his_ drawings, instead of listening to the teacher's lessons.  
But this day hasn't been a normal day. The distant voice of the social worker tried to reassure her. But she wasn't paying attention to what she was saying. Just the day before, she was just a normal child, certainly with a particular "awareness", or something like that, but she was still normal. Like the others she had a family, a house. What would become of her? But there was still a tiny hope.  
Her brother.  
Where was he?  
"Where's my brother? She interrupted the social worker. She didn't care at all of what she said before. The only thing she wanted to know at that moment was where her twin was.  
"Oh, sweetie, I understand, you may be a bit lost, and that's normal but even if it's difficult to admit, your parents..."  
"They're dead, I understood. But now I want to know where my brother is. Where's Beyond?"  
The social worker looked at her weirdly. Almost everyone looked at her like that. Like she had a rock at the place of heart. Why? Just because she was able to understand things better and quickly than the others. However, she never understood this kind of behavior that people had in front of her. No matter how much she could cry, her parent won't never come back.  
"He has already been taken care of and sent in a good institution."  
"When will I join him?"  
The eyes of the woman became darker. And the little girl realized. She wouldn't join him. She wouldn't be sent in the same "institution" than him. Wasn't her destroyed enough yet? Why the world tried to drag her more into the depths of darkness?  
That's how several weeks passed. The little girl shut up a little more every day in her silence. No one in this orphanage understood her. No one tried to. So she clung to her memories. Her curse. Hypermnesia.  
Everyday, she was tortured by her nightmares. And she hasn't anymore the warm hand of her dear brother to hold on when her memory storm is raging on.  
She hasn't been alone in her whole life and she can't bear the absence of her half.

I'm sure you understood that this little girl staring at the snow is me. My life has changed so fast at this time; I lost my family, my house and I was taken apart from my twin. And my suffers will give birth to a new person, someone who will take part to the " L's Odyssey", as how I like to call it.

Have a good trip and happy nightmares.


	3. Page 3 : First Steps in a New World

First steps in a New World

A cold morning in January, 1995.  
As every mornings, I woke up silently before all the other children, I went to the refectory to get some bread and jam and went back to my room. My gestures, always identical, where mechanical. I didn't want to meet anyone. I didn't like people from there. And they didn't like me either, obviously. I've always felt kind of...different from the others. But I never knew why.  
But on this cold morning of January, I had some answers to my internal questions. It was around 9 a.m. when a supervisor came to my room to tell me that someone wanted to see me. I wondered who was that "someone". I was alone here for almost one year and a half, I didn't have any friends and no more family. So, who? And why now?  
I arrived in front of a man. He seemed to be around 55 years old. I remember having seen him three or three times at one of my piano recitals or at the church I used to go with my parents. But I've never talked to him. I didn't even knew his name. The supervisor let us alone in his closet. He wasn't saying anything and he seemed probing my deep thoughts with his glare. Few minutes passed before some words came out of his mouth.  
"Hello, Shadow ˗that's it?˗, nice to meet you. I'm Watari", he said. Such a strange name for an English gentleman.  
The tone of his voice was calm. It seemed to be kind of friendly, but I wasn't sure of it. It always has been difficult to read through Watari, still today. I'm not really talkative, so I just contented to look at him, in the hope to understand his real intentions by coming to meet me. After this morning, he came about 6 or 7 other times. We didn't talked too much. In fact, he gave me some little "enigmas" to solve, and we played a lot to my favourite game: chess. I liked these moments because I could being myself, without being judged or looked at strangely.  
This man has changed my life. But I did not know it at that moment. Let's continue the story.  
On that day, I left the orphanage with Watari. However, I knew that it was not because he adopted me. He said being interested in my "potential" and he was bringing me to a place for children "like me". What did he mean? All children were like me! I tried to find the sense of his words all along the road to Winchester.

About seven hours later, we finally stopped in front of a large iron portal. "Wammy's House". That's what was written on a bronze plaque next to the entrance.  
The manor was old and big, old English style, and was enthroned in a wide garden. We entered inside a big entrance hall. Black and white tiles, long and solid wood double stairs covered with red rimmed carpets. I've always liked this kind of houses, kinda old, and with a certain history. However, the atmosphere of this hall was quite troublesome and oppressive. The place wasn't well enlightened; the sunlight had difficulties to make its way through the stained glass of the windows that were on the door and in the stairs. And the feeble gleam of of the few lamps present there had struggle to floodlight the room. Even the decoration was simple and sober, the omnipresence of this dark wood everywhere was giving the disturbing impression that it was the frontier of a world full of secrets. A world that everyone would like to avoid, but that anyone couldn't leave once in; it was like being caught in a spider web.

We walked across the hall and stopped in front of a door. "Roger" was written on it. Watari asked me to wait a little outside while he talked to this man named "Roger".  
"A girl? That's the first time you bring a girl here. We never had any girls."  
"I know. But there's a beginning for everything, don't you think?" Watari answered.  
"Do you think it's a good idea? I mean, usually boys are... Do you think she could...?"  
"Certainly. See by yourself."  
Watari made me come inside. That was the first time I saw Roger. This man always had a great place in my life. But at that time, he just seemed to be annoyed. Annoyed by the fact I was a girl. He crouched down to me. I could see his discomfort. He didn't seem to be comfortable with children, weird thing for someone working in an orphanage.  
"Hello...what's your name?"  
 _Shadow_...According to his face, he was still waiting for a reaction from me...I just thought my answer. During two years I walled myself in silence and I was obviously not used to speak any more. I've never been a talkative person, but I learnt to talk early.  
"Shadow, I whispered. "My name is Shadow", I said louder.  
"Shadow? Hm, alright."

"May I ask a question?"

"Oh, yes, go on."

"I'm wondering what kind of _institution_ this "Wammy's house" is. I'm pretty sure that's not a regular orphanage."

Roger looked up at Watari, and then crouched down on me again.

"What do you mean?"

"I was already in an orphanage, so why would someone take me out of there to bring me in a same kind institution? It doesn't make sense. Moreover, an orphanage is typically the kind of place where there should be no recruitment, but Watari said being interested in my "potential". There's no "potential" that could be needed to get into an orphanage. So where I am? And in what extent can I be useful?"  
Roger stayed silent for a few seconds, looking at me.  
"Alright, Shadow, your letter will be S. Here children don't use their real names but pseudonyms. Do you know one which would please you?"  
I remember have been surprised by this rule. What kind of place forbids the use of real names? Still today I think it's useless.  
"I don't."  
"Well, you'll have the time to think about it. Watari has to leave, so it'll be me who will make you visit the house and show you your room. Wait a little outside, while I settle some formalities with Watari, alright?"  
I did as he asked me to.  
"So, what did I said?" Said Watari ironically.  
"You were right."  
"You seem to already appreciate her."  
"Yes, I think I will appreciate her a lot. Who would have believed it ?"  
These words heard against my will warmed my heart. Few minutes after, Roger came out of his office. I followed him along the corridors, while he was explaining me this house's history. Wammy's house was founded by Watari, a great inventor, for gifted children. Here, they could express all of their potential.  
I looked around me. It was like I travelled in time. I've always liked this kind of mansions, this kind of ornamentation. Ancient, a bit out of time. But this manor, Wammy's House was different. Everything looked simple, but its atmosphere is particular, kinda stifling, even scaring somehow.  
"This is your room the 104th."  
Inside, the particular simplicity of the Wammy's, like everywhere else there. There were a bed, a large one, a desk, a wardrobe, a bookcase with some books in and a fireplace. Long navy blue curtains covered the windows. The floor was in grey fitted carpet. On the other end of the room, next to the fireplace, a door led to an adjoining bathroom. Even spacious was this room, I've never really used it.  
"You'll be able to rest a little soon, for now, I'll show you the refectory, you may be hungry.  
"Not yet. Can I eat later?"  
"Oh, yes, do as you please."  
He left me there. I decided to continue my exploration of this great house. At the next floor there was a little staircase which led to an attic. I always liked attics because generally no one comes in such places so I could be quiet. This room was quite wide, with some old furnitures covered by white sheets. There was some dust too, proof that almost no one came here. That's why I decided to stay there, at the beginning. Behind long curtains was a great window with a quilted sill, typical of this kind of house. I sat there and contemplated the outside.  
Later, I've been woken up be someone knocking at the attic's door. I remember have been kind of surprised and a bit scared. I knew no one there and no one knew me. So who? Given the state of the room, no one was to come here very often. So why now ? And especially, who enters an "empty" attic knocking on the door, if not because he knows that someone could be inside?  
Yes, I always used to ask me too many questions. But there wasn't reasons to be worried, it was Roger.  
"Shadow you're here!". I could see on his face that he was worried. It surprised me because generally people didn't care about me at all. "I was worried, I'm searching you for hours now. Why are you here?"  
"Sorry, I just felt fine here."  
"It's dinner time. Come, I'll show you the refectory."  
As I supposed, there were a lot of children here. I could heard them laugh a lot behind the door. Watari was wrong, these children weren't like me. As I could deduce, this refectory worked as a self˗service; every child could choose to eat what they wanted to. On the buffet, there were a lot of food, and something withheld my intention. A jar of strawberry jam. One of my favourite food. I decided to took it and to return in my attic. I paid attention to make no noise and was careful not to be followed. Be as discreet as a shadow was one of my talents.

Three days later was my first day class at Wammy's House. I made sure to arrive not too soon or to late, so not to be noticed. I sat at the bottom of the room, and I was happy that nobody noticed my presence. (I remember, it was a French class.) That place permitted me to observe the others, their comportments, way to be, to think. Looking at the teacher, Miss Leroy, I could see that she was annoyed.  
"Does anyone know where Backup is?"  
 _Backup_ ?  
"He 's surely skipping classes again, that fool!" Said a boy with hairs as red as a blaze. Fire, it was his "name".  
"Fire! Hold your tongue!" Shouted the teacher.

Fire...An arrogant and hyperactive boy with ginger fire˗like hair. But he wasn't my first preoccupation. I really wondered who that « Backup » could be.

At the end of the course, I left the classroom discreetly but a few seconds later, I heard a voice shouting behind me.

"Hey, B ! Wait a sec' !". Just then, someone caught my by the arm. It was Fire. "Wait, you're a girl !"

"Well done Sherlock", I said ironically.

"Where's Backup then ?"

"Why would I know it ?"

My voice, as cold as frost and my mournful eyes achieved to make Fire move back. He surely thought I was insane. And I'll learn later Fire really thought I was.

"You're just like _him_ , crazy as hell !"

"As him ? As who ?" I asked myself at that moment.

If in class nobody seemed to have noticed my presence, some children began to have suspicion on the potential occupation of the attic. Anyone came to have a look and I heard spread rumours about some ghosts or...spirits. I found it very funny. Perfect.

I've always wanted to live like a shadow, or an echo. But a ghost...It was fine too.

And since that day, I called myself « Spirit » and my life took a new turning point.


	4. Meeting with a ghost from my past

MEETING WITH A GHOST FROM MY PAST

About 6 month after my arrival at the Wammy's House. I was barely 8. I got completely used to this strange orphanage. Indeed, know (or remember, according to who you are), that Wammy's children aren't like what we could call « regular children ». Besides the fact that most of these children had fags, or a peculiar personality and way to act, they were, before anything else, highly intelligent. Geniuses.

For those who may don't kow what kind of institution the Wammy's house is, it's an orphanage created to welcome gifted children. An orphanage founded for one, and only one person, **L**.

Well, more precisely, the Wammy's Houses exists for one goal : find a successor for **L** , the best detective of this century. Consequently, in addition of our « regular » classes, we had yo study criminology, sociology and we had simulations of criminal investigations. At the end of all of those classes, we were evaluated and then ranked. You may think that's unwholesome to put so young children in competition. That totally was. But we didn't take care at that time. The most important for Wammy's Children was to reach the top of the ranking. Higher they were, more chances to success to **L** one day.

You may ask at which place I was. In fact, succeeding to **L** wasn't my goal at all. Firstly because if I managed doing great things with my brain, I would like it to be in my name. Secondly, because taking the place and the name of someone, doing like he had never existed, disturb me a lot.

We all deserve to have our proper life and name.

But even if I didn't want to become **L** , I found my life goal there, at the Wammy's House. I wanted to be an investigator, the same kind **L** was. But as me, as S. And with all the means I'll have, I'll be able to search for my brother, wherever he was.

But let's come back to the story. As I said earlier, it's been 6 months since I arrived at the orphanage. As it was previously mentioned, I got used to the life at the Wammy's. I was spending the most of my time in "my" attic. I was writing and reading a lot. I've always liked to write. That's partly why I'm writing this diary. But above all, I played a lot to chess. I like this game because it revealed itself very useful in my investigations. Of course, at that time, they weren't real, I was only 8. Chess are helpful for structuring strategies. I moved the pieces according to the actions of the criminal. Doing so, I was able to know about the psychology of the criminal I was working on, and I could know by advance what he was going to do.

As I said before, everything at the Wammy's was simple, and my life was very monotonous. So, I couldn't know that that day, the 21th of July 1995 would be a huge upheaval in my routine life. After all, that day began just like all the others before it I went at class for the first four hours of the morning, where I heard new rumours about « the ghost of the attic », which would be one of « Backup » victims.

I really wondered who that boy was. In addition to his « rebel » reputation, children thought he was certainly a murderer. And I was curious about what Fire said to me a few month ago, on the fact I looked like him. Well, he didn't say it as clearly, but he confounded me with him.

After the course, I went to the refectory to take the jar of jam that Roger used to put aside especially for me. I liked him, he was very nice with me, even if he wasn't very comfortable with children.

Then, I returned to my attic to finish the reading the five books I had to sum up for the French class. When I came out to give back the books to the library, I saw behind and ajar door a beautiful Grand Piano taking stage in a wide music room. I've always loved music. My mother used to play piano a lot when I was young. And she taught me a little before she died. Even if she couldn't teach me a lot, I remember everything I learnt from her. I was only four but I remember of everything. Sometimes I would like to curse my memory. That capacity to remind of everything, to never forget anything was sometimes like torture for me. Because we all have some parts of our life we would like to forget. But I couldn't, even if I wanted to. Hypermnesia. I know it's not a disease, but sometimes, it was so for me.

Once again, I got caught in my memories. The memory of my mother playing the piano overwhelmed me. I sat in front of the instrument and began to play. Even if I was able to talk quite early in my life, I've always had difficulties to express myself and my feelings with words. Music was one of my ways of expression. I could transcript my feelings with words.

I didn't see the passing of time, and suddenly, a supervisor interrupted me and took me out of my thoughts.

"S ?". I turned my head nonchalantly. "It's late, you should go to sleep. Come, I'll lead you to your room.

\- No, thanks, I can go there by myself." I said calmly but firmly to make understand to her to let me alone. Indeed, even if I didn't spend to much time in my room, I could find it by myself. Moreover, I didn't want anyone to know that I lived in the attic.

I remember well of this night. I was a calm spring night. As often, I was sitting on the padded edge of my window and I was admiring the moon and the stars, as I liked to do with my brother some years ago.

Later in the night, I heard noises behind the door. More precisely, I heard footsteps. Drawling but very soft steps. A sound that, I didn't know why, was very familiar to me. In fact, this evening wasn't the first one when I heard someone walking behind the door of my attic, without never coming inside though. What did that person expect to find? "Officially", this room has always been empty. It just had these rumours about a ghost, a lost soul haunting this place. Did that person believe in this? That would be stupid and childish. Despite my opinion on these gossips, I've never denied them; ghosts usually afraid children, and if they were afraid, they wouldn't try to come and break my precious tranquillity.

Suddenly, a sound caught my attention. Or precisely, an absence of sound caught my attention. _Maybe because the prowler went away_ , I thought. But if it was so, I would have heard him drawing away. So he was still there, maybe waiting for something, a noise, a sign which would prove the fact that the attic is occupied. If it was that, he could wait for a long time; I didn't intend to betray myself as easily.

But suddenly, the door opened. I didn't bat an eyelid. I stayed still, looking at the nocturnal sky. I was thinking about the possible identity of the invader. Who, besides Roger, was sure about my presence here to the point of entering?

"Tch, I was hearing rumours that said there was a ghost here, it amused me, so I came to have a look, but if I knew that was _you_..."

Bluntly, I froze on spot. That voice...that soothing voice that I wanted to hear again so much.

Slowly, I turned over. And what I saw root me on spot. It was like I was seeing myself into a mirror. Those raven like hair, those blood pearls instead of eyes…

That was him.

"Beyond..." I whispered. My voice stayed caught in my throat. That really was my brother.

" _Feasgar math*_ Shadow". I shivered. It's been months since I've heard someone calling me by my real name. And years since I heard my mother tongue. And hearing both in the mouth of the person I liked te most in the world filled me with happiness.

I've finally found him. And, in a rush of immense joy, I threw myself in his arms in an embrace he gave me back.

For the first time since my life exploded with the death of my parents, I truly felt happy.

* * *

* "Good evening" in Scottish Gaelic


	5. Page 5 : S, Debriefing !

(S, DEBRIEFING!)

As you just read, I finally could get reunited with my brother, Beyond. If you're also related to Wammy's House, you may know him as "B", or "Backup". That child with that bad reputation. It was totally surprising for me to discover that "the black sheep" of the orphanage and my dear brother were the same person. Of course, our "resemblance" according to Fire should have set me thinking, however, I just didn't want to consider the eventuality that Backup was Beyond. Firstly because I know that coincidences happen rarely. And being sent in the same institution as him after more than one year of separation, when you know the number of orphanages in the UK, it was improbable. And secondly, because what people where saying about Backup...it wasn't my brother at all. He has always been a nice guy. I know it must be hard to believe for you, but I swear he was. Of course, I knew he always has peculiar personality and way to react, but nothing in him could make think to a psychopath or something.

However, after talking with him about what happened within these two years being thorn apart. In fact, he was reacting just like me, he felt back on himself. But some of his personality traits were totally different from mines. He was much more extravert than I was. That was totally fine for me; he was like an interpretor for me, when words were missing me.

And he always had the "annoying" habit to say clearly what he has in mind, and that, no matter the situation. And for people to let him alone, he began to threaten them by revealing something that no one should know. Something gruesome to them; the day of their death. Remember some pages before, I said that by brother and I " _saw_ " death everyday. My brother always had the ability to see the complete name of everyone above their heads. But that wasn't the only thing. He also saw a line of numbers under the name. At the beginning, he didn't know what they meant. But one day, something happened. A car accident. We were waiting for our mother in front of our school and Beyond couldn't take his eyes off of a man walking on the pavement on the other side of the street. He was anxious and was repeating that something was going wrong. He told me that the numbers weren't many, not as he was used to see. He was feeling that something was about to happen. The numbers were reducing noticeably and he suddenly shouted "they disappeared!". At the same moment, the man has been knocked down by a car. Then Beyond understood.

Grow up with this kind of ability leaves scars for sure.

You may ask the point of what I just said, but it was important for me to explain. To give precisions on the background of **L** 's world and its protagonists. I'm here to lift the veil of truth on it, and what I said is useful to understand who my brother was and then became. But let's come back to the story.

Three years after events of the previous chapter. Beyond and I were 12. Expect several temporal ellipses during the storytelling; the period I deal with is long and I just can't talk about every moment, or you'll be still reading in five years.

The period I choose to talk about here is special; that's when S came to life. During these past three years, nothing really important happened. All the days were looking alike, and only my brother and his wacky ideas were putting colour in my monotonous life. And I didn't have any idea of what was coming to disrupt my everyday life.

We are on the 10th of September 1998. I turned 12 two months ago. This day wasn't that special at the beginning; I woke up side by side with Beyond (we use to take again the habit to sleep together). As I woke up early than him, I decided to go to the refectory to take some strawberry jam jars for our breakfast. On the path, I met Roger who was going to my brother's room.

"S, you're awoken! Good, I have to talk to you."

On these words, I followed him to his closet, where a box containing my fate was waiting for me.

"Take a seat, S." I did as he asked me to. "As your current are above those we planed, we decided to put you on the test. This box contains the files of your first investigation."

It took me a minute to assimilate the information. Roger just entrust a real case to me. At the beginning, I wanted to become an investigator to have at my disposal the same means than **L** to be able to find out my brother. Get a real investigation before anyone else at the orphanage (and above all before Beyond), while I wasn't even a **L** 's successor, disappointed me a little. I had the feeling of being a thief or an usurper.

However, I also had the feeling that Roger wasn't making me a suggestion.

"S, do you accept the work?"

Did I have the choice?

"I do."

From here, S was born for real. And my life won't never be the same. I took the box to begin to work in my attic. It was early in the morning, I thought Beyond would be still sleeping. I was wrong…

"Shadow! Where were ye? Ye weren't in the room when I woke up, I was worried!"

I still remember that embarrassing moment; me, holding a box containing the investigation meant for **L** 's successors. Exactly what why my brother worked so hard. I was afraid that he could be angry at me.

"Eh, what's this?"

Here we are…

"It's a case? A _real_ one? that's so cool!"

 _What_? I was really surprised at that moment. I was granted with something that should have been given to him. He has always been the first at the Wammy's house. He worked very hard to have the privilege to meet **L** and to success to him.

That has never been my case my case and I got an investigation first. And he seemed to be happy. I was lost.

"Aren't you angry?"

"Eh? Why would I? I'm happy for you! I'm sure you'll manage it as well as usual!"

That's my brother; always unpredictable.

"Well, I leave you work, I go to eat! See you!"

On these words, I took me chessboard and began to work. This case was about an Italian mafia organisation, as violent as meticulous. The Italian secret services was trying to dismantle this organisation for about ten years, but the Mafiosi use to kill everyone that would represent a danger for them. And except some "pieces", the cadavers just can't be found. Moreover, they gave several bribes to politicians to be able to continue their business without being worried by the police. Even the secret services were engaged to arrest these criminals; they were in a cleft and lost three infiltrated agents in ten years. that's why they decided to call **L** and the Wammy's House. I was wondering why they gave that case directly to me instead of entrust it to **L**.

After having finished, I understood why; that case wasn't even stimulating. I achieved to guide the Italian agents well to dissolve the mafia organisation in one day. It took only five chess moves and seven phone calls. I think **L** would have been annoyed by that investigation, one of the main reason that push **L** to deny a case. Indeed, **L** always had the habit to accept only the cases that interested him. I've never liked his way to proceed. Too egoist. Anyway, let's come back to the story.

It was late in the evening when I achieved to write my report. Beyond let me alone all the day long not to distract me, that was nice of him, but now I really wanted to see him. I got out from my attic to go to Roger's office and give him my file to transmit. Just before knocking to the closet's door, I noticed that someone was talking with Roger. However, it was late, I was tired and I really wanted to be with Beyond, so I decided not to wait and enter.

That was Watari who was there.

"Oh S! Good evening!" Roger said. "Do you have a problem?"

"No, I'm just coming to give over my report"

"Uh? Already? Roger, you told me that you gave her this case only this morning, right?"

"That was what I said, yes...S, is that true? You've already finished it?"

"I did. I wouldn't be here otherwise."

"Can I have a look?" Watari asked.

I gave him the file and glanced at him. It became a reflex for me to look at people, analysing their features and behaviour to know what they were thinking about, or to predict their actions. This tendency for psychiatry and psychology always helped me, both in life and in my work.

However, the natural stillness of Watari always made him difficult to figure him out.

"That's good, very good." He finally said.

"Verdict?" I asked.

"That's an excellent work, I'm impressed. Good organisation, good methodology. Yes, that's very good."

The fact that Watari appreciated my work could have pandered me if I wasn't how I was. In reality, whether he liked it or not my way to proceed leaves me totally indifferent. What was important was the result, not really the way followed to reach it. Well...until a certain point, I'll come back to it later.

Anyway, even if someone asked me to change my methodology, I wouldn't have done it. At the Wammy's House, all the children were proceeding like **L** , copying his methods and his way to think to solve their cases. It wasn't the same for me; I have my own personality, m own way to see the world that I wouldn't never change, even not to look like the best detective of the century. I admired **L** for his intelligence, respected him for his work. But I didn't like him overmuch.

After having given over my report to Roger, I finally could return with my brother. However, as I expected, he was already asleep. I pushed back a jet-black strand of hair that fell across his face. I've always loved looking at his peacefully sleeping face. He has always been handsome.

Not to wake him up, I didn't lie next to him but I sat at the foot of the bed. I wasn't sleepy anyway. I was thinking about what my life would be looking like now that I was officially an investigator at first, I wanted to become one to search for Beyond. But I didn't need it any more, since we lived together anew at the Wammy's. Should I stop? Now that my wish was fulfilled, I didn't have to continue. On the other hand, I had no idea of what to do in my life at that moment. Beyond has always been the only thing I wanted. And if he became **L** , he'll have to cut off all the relationships he had to preserve his identity. Maybe except for others Wammy's investigators whom wouldn't gain anything unveiling **L** 's identity.

So you can easily imagine the choice I made. However, I didn't know the price I'd have to pay for this. But let's continue.

During the following months, the situation changed a bit. To begin with, I was "established" as an investigator. I mean that S' reputation went out from the Wammy's House and now, forces of orders of the world could entrust cases directly to me. Beyond too began to investigate. I remember the day on which he got his first case, he was such a lot happy. So I was for him. He always had such a great talent t act like L without changing the person he is. And that's one of the biggest differences between us.

Observing and analysing people around me gave me a great knowledge in human sciences and some good actress abilities.. I barely could being whoever I wanted to. However, I've always had to "erase" Shadow for a while. Beyond Never had to do this. He could act perfectly like **L** without getting rid of "Beyond". I admired him a lot for that. Yes, because at Wammy's House, if we were raised to, potentially, become **L** , the orphanage wanted us to "become" **L** entirely, not only to be good at investigating. But Beyond managed to go ahead everyone else there, but without following all the rules (it has never been his kind anyway). I really liked the way he was, and I feel sad that no one truly realised how good he was.

By the way, since her birth, S took a larger place in my life. A place I wouldn't have suspected at first. As I said before, contrary to L I didn't get used to choose my cases; I just took all of them. It kind of resulted as a huge wave of cases that rained on me for years. Indeed, since I took everything that was proposed to me, Roger, Watari and the world's police forces sent me a ton of investigations, sometimes by facility. Moreover, I picked some **L** 's rejected cases up. But I never complained, I never said anything, I should have done it sometimes. But no, I just did my work. "How studious S is", they surely thought. But in reality I was just a little girl pushed into a world that wasn't hers, that shouldn't have been hers.

From that time, S began to encroach upon Shadow, and I'm not off the person I was during that period of time.

Let's draw together in the darkness within which I lived for years.


End file.
